


It’s Too Late

by Irondad_Spiderson_duo, tonystork



Category: Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel, spider-man homecoming
Genre: Again, And character death, Apparently i dont, Gen, I didn’t even even mean to write this tbh, It just kinda happened, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump Fic, basically I’m evil, because I love whump shamelessly and love to act like John green, bittersweet ending but I promise it’s worth the read, but at least my stories end happily, the boys are back at it again, they just deserve happiness and I keep giving them angst, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-18 02:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14844219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irondad_Spiderson_duo/pseuds/Irondad_Spiderson_duo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonystork/pseuds/tonystork
Summary: During a fight with aliens, Peter is injured far worse than he’d like to admit to Tony. By the time Tony gets to him, it’s too late.





	1. Chapter 1

Why did he come to this fight? Peter wasn’t even an Avenger yet, but here he was, fighting alongside the best ones while he was flailing through the sky, trying not to get hit by the stupid aliens. Why did they even have weapons like that? Who needs huge spikes and pitchforks ( _didn’t those die out with Shrek?_ ) and umbrella-like things that had razors instead of arms? Jesus Christ, Mr. Stark wasn’t kidding when he said he should’ve just stayed home. This was like a horror movie come to life, except he couldn’t just throw popcorn at his enemies like MJ would have.

“Thinking of enemies, Mr. Stark you might want to check your right side.” Peter said into the comm that linked him directly to Tony. Tony blasted the little yellow toad like creature on his right without blinking an eye. He turned to the kid with a small, sarcastic salute.

“Thanks, Spider-Kid, but I’ve got this. No talking, it’s bad for your fight awareness or whatever.” Tony said, continuing to fire his repulsors at the aliens attacking the streets. Peter heard a snicker on the line.

“Fight awareness? Tony, you talk all the goddamn time on these things. Hypocrite.” He heard Rhodey say as Peter tore an alien’s arm off with his super strength.

“Oh, _gross_.” Peter said, shaking off the goo he was now covered in.

“That’s what you get when you sign up to fight aliens, kid. Also, I can talk however much I want, thank you very much. I’m in a metal suit, the rest of you can’t say that.” Tony snarked while tearing the head clean off another alien, the body slumping into another’s and causing a buildup. The aliens started jumping over each other, quickly learning to use one another to leap further and higher, almost reaching Falcon’s height from where he was shooting them back from the sky. One fallen alien fell through the roof of a nearby building.

With Peter’s advanced senses, he heard a young scream come from a few buildings down before stopping short. Peter’s heart dropped as he saw a few stray aliens, maybe three or four, lead away from the pack and into the near-collapsed building. Suddenly Karen’s voice boomed in his ear.

“Peter, there are three aliens moving towards a family of-“ Peter waved to cut her off as he swung towards the building, trying to cut the aliens off before they could get to it.

“I know, Karen. Anything useful to help send these aliens to the grave?” Peter asked, reaching the trio of disturbing creatures. He webbed one of them to the ground as Karen replied.

“There seems to be debris on your left side that you may use to take them out.” Peter swung around a lamppost, webbing a fallen piece of concrete and throwing it at the closest alien. The slab kept it down, it’s limbs spasming before falling against the ground. Peter was going to need a lot of therapy after this. By the time he’d made it to the ground, the second alien was on him, tearing at his suit and creating a gaping hole in the back, where he could feel claws painfully making their way across his skin. Letting out a scream, he reached over his shoulder and slammed the alien into the ground ahead of him, a move Natasha had taught him. The alien fought back, kicking Peter directly in the face and causing him to fall back a couple steps. Unfortunately, it was just enough to get him off guard.

The alien clawed at his chest as Peter watched blood appear on his suit. Even though it hurt, he faintly knew it would heal in a minute, like his back. Peter fought back against the creature, grabbing its neck and squeezing tight. The alien’s neck cracked disturbingly and fell slack against him, effectively trapping him underneath the heavy body. Peter felt enormous guilt for killing the creature, even if it was trying to kill him. What if it had a family? What if it had little alien babies who were waiting for it to come home? Realization struck as he was shimmying out from beneath it. It was trying to kill him. It was going to kill him. _Better it than me_ , he thought selfishly.

As Peter finally lifted the body off of his legs and stood up, he surveyed the damage. Two aliens were dead...but the one he webbed. The webbing was loose on the ground and looked shredded to bits. Suddenly his spider sense hit him hard, nearly sending him straight into a panic attack. All Peter felt was pain. White, hot, blinding pain as he felt his chest being torn apart from the inside out. The alien ripped its jagged claw out of Peter’s chest with a sickeningly wet squelch. Peter’s eyes rolled back in his head as he fell. The alien stepped over his bleeding form as it decidedly rushed back to battle.

* * *

 

When Peter comes to, he feels cold all over. Much too cold. His teeth chatter together as he asks Karen to please turn on the heater. The warmth helps, but the air flow makes him realize just how wet his chest is.

“K-Karen, call Mr. Stark.” Peter says, wrapping his arms around his middle. Within the moment, Karen is patching through a call to his mentor. Peter hears the crackle from Tony’s suit before he hears his voice.

“What’s wrong, kid? You down?” Tony sounds odd, too relaxed to be in the middle of a fight. Or maybe it's just Peter.

“Yeah, Mr. Stark, I think I’m hurt.” Peter says, staring down at the stab hole in his chest. Really, it’s a slim claw mark, but it cut deep and thorough.

“Alright kid, is it serious?” He can hear the high whine of the suit as Tony shoots another alien. When Peter doesn’t answer, Tony speaks again hurriedly.

”Either get back up or stay down.” Peter hesitates.

“Mr. Stark-“ Peter doesn’t even get the chance to finish before Tony is speaking again.

“Alright, you’re down. Don’t even think about trying to fight or I’ll call a suit to fly you back to Queens.” Peter opens his mouth to speak but Tony beats him. “I can hear you trying to protest. Peter, stay down. I’ll get you when this is over.” Tony promises as he ends the call. As Peter winces from his injury, the thought crosses his mind.

He doesn’t think he’ll be there for Tony to get when this is over.

Every breath he takes leaves him with a sharp pain he can’t stand. He almost wants to call May, just to hear her comforting voice and take away the pain. A tear falls from Peter’s eye as he imagines how she’ll feel when Peter doesn’t come home. First Uncle Ben, now him...Peter doesn’t want to think about it. And Ned, oh god. His best friend. His chest hurts far worse than the physical pain as he chokes on his tears, crying and panicking because he’s dying and god he doesn’t want to die. _He’s only sixteen, he should be worrying about homework and helping Ned build LEGO but he’s sitting here, bleeding out while nobody knows he’s dying_.

“Karen? Can you record audio videos?” Peter asks, wavering slightly.

“Yes, Peter. I can record anything.” Karen responds almost sympathetically. Peter shudders and takes a deep breath, getting ready to speak. His chest aches as he forces a breath in and out.

“Aunt May, thank you for - for taking care of me all my life. I know it was more difficult than you’d ever let me know and even worse after…” Peter trails off, taking in another stuttering breath. The effort not to stutter was astonishing but he didn’t want to let his pain leak through the video. “I’m sorry.” Words cannot describe how sorry he is for May. May was his best friend, his mother, father, aunt and uncle. She was everything for him and now...Peter just hopes she’ll be okay. Tony will take care of her, right?

“Ned, you are and always will be the best guy in the chair. Thanks for being my best friend, man. I love you both, so much.” Peter swallows a sob as he croaks out, “Stop recording. Karen, call Mr. Stark. Non-emergency.”

“Peter, Tony has all non-emergency calls blocked on his suit until post-battles. He will not receive your call until after.” Karen replies mechanically but thoughtfully.

“I know, Karen. Call him. Please.” Peter begs, coughing at the end of his speech. He feels something hit the inside of his mask and knows he doesn’t have a lot of time. He starts the message with a request.

“Mr. Stark, I made May and Ned videos too. Please make sure they get them…”

* * *

 

“Alright people, only a few squishy demons left. Let’s do this.” Tony says into the comm, receiving multiple ‘hell yeahs’. When he doesn’t get a response from Peter, not even a grunt, Tony’s worried. Peter hasn’t talked on the line since he told him to stay put. Tony thought maybe it was so the other Avengers wouldn’t be distracted, but Peter never stays this quiet for this long. He directs his comm to Peter’s line specifically.

“Hey, Spider-Kid. We’re almost done here. How’re you holding up?” Tony waits for a response. And waits. And waits. He watches the other Avengers clear out an alien or two and tries again, louder this time. Tony can feel dread making his stomach drop.

“Spider-Man, report. What happened?” Tony says, clenching his left fist in the suit. Suddenly, Friday pops up on the screen with a video from Peter.

“Sorry, Boss. Your protocol for non-emergencies was on. You have a video call sent from Peter, timestamp 2:32PM.” Friday says. Tony notes that this was only two minutes ago, meaning Peter was fine. He let out a premature sigh of relief.

“Play the video, Friday. And track his suit, I want to know where he is.” Tony says, gearing up to fly around the battlefield once again. The screen lights up with a map and an orange dot where Tony follows, and the video starts up. At once, Tony stops flying and just stares at him. The call opens up on Peter’s now tear streaked face, and is that blood in the corner? _Two minutes_ , Tony reminds himself. He flies even faster to the little orange dot on his map.

“Mr. Stark, I made May and Ned videos too. Please make sure they get them. I-I want to thank you for being my...my mentor.” Peter takes a deep breath, his forehead creasing with unshed cries. “I’m just a kid from Queens, but you cared about me anyways.” Peter cries, tears making clean trails down his dirty cheeks. Peter can’t help coughing as more blood makes its way up his throat. Tony morbidly stares at the dribble going down his chin. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. Thank you for everything.” Peter’s words burn a hole in Tony’s chest. Peter has nothing to be sorry for, he’s never done anything wrong. He’s a good kid, so much better than Tony. He doesn’t deserve this. Tony just catches sight of Peter’s red and blue suit when he hears Peter tell Karen to end the call.

Tony nearly falls out of the sky when Peter doesn’t move, doesn’t react to his loud repulsors landing him in front of his kid. Peter isn’t moving at all. Friday gives Tony a thermal scan and the sound of Peter’s heart beating in his ears, but Peter’s much colder than he should be and his heart is beating too infrequently and fluttery than he needs it to be.

Tony jumps out of his suit the moment it hits the ground and he rushes towards Peter. The closer he gets, the worse it looks. Peter’s chest is mottled, covered in blood and moving far too slowly. His face looks awful, blood oozing from his nose and mouth. Tony’s heart aches and he wishes it would stop instead of Peter’s. He knows he doesn’t have a lot of time left with the kid and he immediately runs his fingers through Peter’s hair, offering him some small sort of comfort.

“Kid?” Tony calls. Peter barely moves, only holding onto his consciousness by a thread. Tony cups Peter’s head and moves him onto his lap, stopping right away when he hears the strangled moan Peter lets out.

“Oh god, kid, I’m sorry. I won’t move you. Just please open your eyes, Underoos.” Peter registers Tony’s voice after a moment, the comforting vibrations coming from him soothing Peter for the time being. His mind is swimming, Tony’s words floating around him but not making sense until he feels Tony grip his arms tighter, bringing him back to Earth. Back to the pain. Peter’s breath is taken away as he lies in Tony’s lap, crying.

“It’s okay, kid. You’re okay. It’ll be alright, calm down.” Tony says, seeing the panic and distraught coming from the kid. He wants to scream for not being able to take his pain away. It wasn’t fair. Peter wasn’t supposed to get hurt. That’s why he made the suit, to keep Peter safe, to protect his kid. Peter moves his hand along the ground until he finds Tony and squeezes his hand softly. Tony’s heart breaks.

“Okay, Spider-Man,” Tony says, hoping the title will give the kid some strength, “I have to seal this wound, okay? You can do it.” Tony said, preparing to call to his suit when Peter stops him with a weak hand.

“It’s too late, Tony. I’m sorry.” Peter says, barely above a whisper. His eyes open slowly, tears releasing and rolling down his cheeks into Tony’s lap. Tony brushes his hand along Peter’s hair, smoothing down the hair curling into his eyes.

“It’s never too late, kid. I’ll fix you, don’t you worry.” Tony says quietly, biting his lip. He knows damn well he can’t help him and Peter knows it too.

“Thanks for being there for me, Tony.” Peter says sincerely, letting out a small huff as he forced the words out. His eyes closed with the effort.

“Hey, no saying goodbye yet, Underoos.” He shakes Peter lightly in his arms, but Peter doesn’t respond. Tears threaten to splash down his face. “Underoos.” Tony runs his hand over Peter’s cheek, wiping away his kid’s tears. “Kid.” Tony says with urgency, shaking his kid slightly. _No no no no, no_.

“Peter?” Tony whispers, eyebrows creasing as he waits for Peter to take another breath, open his eyes, _anything_. He doesn’t. Tony closes his eyes as he holds his kid close and loses his mind.

“No!” Tony screams across the battlefield, loud enough to cause all the Avengers to look his way. This was his kid, this fight wasn’t supposed to end like this. He was supposed to take Peter home, watch Star Wars for the millionth time, order pizza and work on the suits. Peter wasn’t meant to leave him like this. It wasn’t fair.

In the blink of an eye, the Avengers were surrounding them, staring at the ground; the raw emotion in Tony’s scream was shattering. Bruce was the only one to take action. He yelled at Tony, told him to suit up and cauterize Peter’s wounds. Tony would have given anything not to have to do it.

That day, he died right along with Peter.

* * *

 

During the surgery, Peter’s heart almost stopped for a second time due to the lack of blood in his system. Tony stuck out his arm immediately, telling Bruce to just sack up and take his blood.

“How did you know your blood types are…” Bruce started, staring at the documentation of every teammate. Tony and Peter were the only matches for their blood type, a 99.6% match.

“Just shut up and take my blood. Every second he’s losing this battle, Banner. Hurry it up.” Tony said. He wouldn’t meet Bruce’s eyes.

* * *

 

After a long but successful 16 hour surgery, Peter was lying in the too-white med bay bed that made him look too pale in comparison. Tony watched him worriedly as Bruce walked into his room, clearly exhausted.

“So, you’re a near perfect match for him. Funny.” Bruce said, leaning against the door frame. Tony didn’t even look up as he spoke.

“Yeah, a real coincidence,” Tony said with a bite in his voice, letting Bruce know to drop it.

“Mmhmm.” Bruce hummed sarcastically as he walked next to Peter to check his stats. Again.

“Oh, shut up, Bruce. He doesn’t need a dad like me. I can’t protect him. Clearly.” Tony said, hanging his head and crossing his arms defensively. Bruce stopped flicking Peter’s IV for a moment as he stared incredulously at his idiot friend.

“You did your best, Tony. You know he adores you. He wouldn’t blame you in the slightest and you know it,” Bruce said pointedly.

“I know. God, I know. That’s the problem, Bruce. He looks up to me,” Tony said, imploring his friend to hear what he was saying.

“I don’t see a problem with that. You’re his hero.” Bruce said, lumbering over to where Tony stood next to Peter’s bed.

“You want him to grow up like this?” Tony frustratedly waved his arm in the general direction of his life in the workshop, where at any given time, there were at least six old cups of coffee and half finished projects lying around.

“Tony, you love him more than I’ve ever seen you love anyone. You aren’t your father.” Bruce saw right through him, turning Tony to look him in the eye.

“I would rather die than be like him.” Tony says with conviction. “Peter needs nurturing, not neglect.”

“And that’s why you’re not Howard, Tony. You would never treat Peter the way you were treated.” Tony sniffs and looks over to his kid, laying there in the hospital bed. He could almost pretend he’s only sleeping, if it weren’t for the incessant beeping of his heart monitor. Bruce claps him on the shoulder and moves a chair beside the bed for his friend. Tony gratefully sits down and takes his son’s hand in his, Peter’s curling into Tony’s hold.

“Goodnight, Tony.” Bruce says, a bittersweet smile on his face as he leaves the room. Tony nods in response and leans his head on Peter’s bed, watching his chest rise and fall.

Life would be difficult for a while, but Tony was determined to help his son through, even if he didn’t know he was a Stark. It was for the best. It may have hurt Tony every day, seeing his real smile on Peter’s face and his curled hair like his dad’s if he’d ever let it grow out, but Tony couldn’t protect his son if it became public. It hurt like hell, but it was the only way to ever truly protect his kid.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up slowly, becoming aware of things like the pain he would feel before going numb again, or a certain conversation Bruce and Tony were having...

Peter was awake. Or was he? He thought he was, but his mind felt too dark to be aware of his surroundings. He felt like he was swimming through a dark pool, once in a while clueing into things, like the way his chest would twinge and then go foggy again. After god knows how long, he felt other things, too, like the straps on his arms holding him down, and the feel of the tools inside of him. It didn’t hurt, which was odd for Peter. Distantly he knew he was in surgery from the other times he remembers this feeling, but he couldn’t feel any pain, just what they were doing. He could feel the slide of the needles in him and the tubes being placed in his body. At one point, he heard shouting and then felt a steady stream of something warm enter him. He couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, like they were speaking another language.

“Just shut up and take my blood.” Peter heard, before the said warm stream eased his mind. After a few seconds of deciphering the voice, the words clicked in his mind. So he needed blood, which in his books, didn’t mean much was going well. Peter felt his mind pull him back to that pool, where he retreated to the quiet place, where there was no constant beeping to bother him.

When Peter crawls his way out of the hole his mind has made for him, he can catch bits and pieces of conversation. It’s difficult for his injured brain to keep track of and make out the words, but every so often the language clicks.

“...up, Bruce. He doesn’t need a dad like me. I can’t…” Peter made out Tony’s voice, wanting to jump for joy. He was here, Peter wasn’t alone. A second later, the words made sense. Wait, did Tony have a kid? Who was he talking to? Peter tried to focus on the speakers, an increasingly difficult task when he couldn’t rely on his eyes to read lips as well.

“...love him more than I’ve ever seen you love anyone…” Bruce said, Peter distinguishing that there were only two people in the room with him. Two people was good. He could work with that. His muddled mind made it difficult to wade through separate voices and he was glad he was with the people he knew best.

“...rather die than be…” Peter listened with concern as his mentor spoke. “...Peter needs nurturing, not neglect.” Peter perked up at his name. So it was him that Tony was talking about. As Peter tried to figure out what that meant, he felt the answer being dragged further and further away from him. The more he thought, the less he knew. Peter wanted to throw something in frustration, or for somebody to just tell him what was going on, why he couldn’t think or move or speak or open his eyes.

Suddenly he felt a calloused hand take his, and his anger melted away. It was Tony. Peter tried desperately to let him know he was awake, he wanted answers, that he needed to know what in the world was going on. All he could manage was a slow curl of his fingers which went, in his opinion, way under appreciated by both men. 

By the time he heard a goodnight from Bruce, Peter’s mind was pulling him back again, to that place of safety and silence. It was frustrating.

* * *

 

The next time Peter wakes up, he is alone in his room. The blanket that’s been pulled around him is surprisingly soft, unlike most hospital blankets. As Peter’s able to open his eyes, he notes that it’s his blanket from his room, most likely brought down by Tony or Bruce.  _ Tony and Bruce...there was something about Tony and Bruce _ …It was infuriating how every time he tried to remember what his mind was telling him, the harder it was to retrieve the memory. Peter nearly knocked over a clipboard in his frustrated movements. 

“Oh shi-" Peter whispers, his voice hoarse from disuse. He carefully pulls the clipboard back to his side where it was before, but his name on the front urges his curiosity.  _ Curiosity killed the cat _ , Peter thinks blandly before opening the document

_ Peter Benjamin Parker. Surgery report: 16.3 hours. Right lung punctured, appears to be stabbed through with a sharp knife of some sort. Very clean cut, should heal easily with anti-inflammatories and-  _

Peter stops reading out of boredom. He knows what happened to him, he was kebabbed by an alien. Sixteen hours though, that’s a new record. He must have worried Tony with that.

As his eyes skim the page, he comes up with his mentor’s name.  _ Subject nearly went into cardiac arrest, not enough blood left in the body. Stark, a 99.6% match, was cleared for a blood transfusion of 15%. _ The information floats around Peter for a moment as he takes it in. Wait. Hold up. Ninety-nine percent match? Peter recalls what he learned about blood types and such from last semester in biology. Doesn’t that mean…

Without warning, Bruce comes walking into Peter’s room carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and another clipboard under his arm. He spills the coffee when he sees Peter awake and reading the document with shaking hands. His brows furrow and he drops his clipboard on the small table beside Peter. 

“Peter, you’re awake. You weren’t supposed to be awake for another…” Bruce looks at his watch. “Five hours. Are you okay? Any pain?” He says, trying to distract Peter from his reading as he fails to subtly nudge it out of his hands. Peter shakes his head as he stubbornly sticks his fingers to the paper. Bruce sighs in defeat, choosing to instead up Peter’s anesthesia, a special type that Bruce made so he wouldn’t burn through it as fast. He makes a mental note to make the stuff stronger next time, so Peter wouldn’t wake up ahead of schedule. As he flicks the IV as he starts to speak.

“So...I guess you have some questions, huh?” Bruce says awkwardly, trying hard to look busy. He promised Tony he wouldn’t say anything about his report, but he didn’t expect Peter to wake up and read it. He swore in his head, mentally kicking himself for not testing out the anesthesia earlier.

“Uh, yeah.” Peter says, hesitating halfway through as he realized how sarcastically rude he was being. “I almost died? Tony gave me his blood? What?” Peter just wanted to know what happened while he was unconscious.

“Peter, you lost quite a lot of blood in the battle. It was too hard on your heart, not having enough blood to pump around your body, so Tony gave you his.” Bruce said simply, having stopped fidgeting with the IV and resting his hands on the side of Peter’s bed.

“Yeah, it says we’re a ninety-nine percent match.” Peter yawned as the fluid from the tube kicked in, fatigue spreading throughout his body. The anesthesia spread fast but didn’t always last long. Luckily, there was a large dosage to help Peter sleep while he healed. Bruce watched the kid yawn a second time, clearly getting tired. 

“Yes, Peter. You’re a very close match.” Bruce said, patting Peter’s shoulder as he turned to call Tony down. When Tony didn’t answer, Bruce figured he’d just have to grab him from wherever he was. Probably the lab, where he was working on the Spider-Kid’s suit, making it harder, more durable. Peter’s voice stopped him just as he was about to turn. 

“Bruce? Is Tony my dad?” Peter asked, eyes drooping under the weight his exhaustion was putting on them. Bruce wavered a moment, unnoticed by Peter as he was struggling to make himself appear aware.

“I think this is a topic to ask Tony himself.” Bruce says as he walks to the door, leaving Peter to fight the sleep tangling his mind, alone. “I’ll be back in a minute, I’m going to go find him.”  Peter wanted to shout for Bruce to stay, to just tell him, but his mind wouldn’t tell his mouth what to say. He lays there in silence as his eyes close on him, shutting off his mind, leaving him in blissful unconsciousness yet again. 

By the time Tony makes it down to Peter’s room, the kid is already asleep and won’t wake up for hours. Bruce apologizes for not getting him earlier, when Peter had just woken up.

“It’s fine, Bruce. He probably won’t remember it anyways. He’s pretty drugged up.” Tony says, watching the IV drip into Peter’s arm. Bruce itches to say otherwise, but stops. He does, however, speak up about the kid’s earlier question.

“He knows, Tony. Or in the least, he’s curious.” Bruce says as Tony freezes.

“What?” Tony asks, spinning around to look Bruce directly in the eye. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he asked if you were his dad. That’s why I brought you down, I didn’t want to say anything without you here.” Bruce says, realizing after that with Tony, he’s going to need some serious damage control.

“Oh he...ck. This isn’t what I had planned.” Tony says, curbing his swear around Peter. Bruce gives him an odd look. 

“He’s not even awake, Tony. It’s fine,” Bruce says. Tony blinks tiredly.

“I’m not swearing in front of my kid, Bruce. It’s a bad habit,” Tony says.

“I’m sure he’s heard and  _ said _ worse at school, Tony.” Bruce says, leaning over Peter’s bed to check his stats. The anesthesia seemed to be working, thankfully. Tony waved him off despite knowing Bruce was right. 

“Whatever. I need you to elaborate on your earlier statement.” Tony said somewhat sarcastically, trying not to show his panic on the outside. Bruce sat down across from Tony in the small room.

“Peter asked if you were his dad. He saw the surgery report, I thought he would be knocked out for another few hours. He knows you’re a near perfect match for him.” Bruce said, trying to gauge Tony’s reaction. “You need to talk to him, Tony. He’s very confused right now, at least when he was trying to talk to me.” Bruce says, rubbing his forehead. Tony looked an inch away from having a stroke. He paused for a long moment as his face turned cold.

“How did he see the report? I thought we agreed to keep that hidden from him.” Tony said with a hint of anger and panic as his voice rose. “I can’t have him-“ Tony was cut off by Bruce’s intense stare at Peter’s monitors. 

“How in the…” Bruce trailed off, brushing past Tony on his way to double check the scans. Tony’s heart rate picked up as Bruce continued to stare wide-eyed and confused at his kid.

“What?” Tony was met with silence. He tried again. “Bruce,” The man seemed to be unable to pay attention to Tony. He grew impatient waiting to know if his kid was okay. “Bruce! What’s going on?” Bruce met his gaze with a curious smile on his face.

“He’s...I think he’s listening.” Bruce said, showing Tony the scans his machines were taking. Peter’s heart rate had elevated as the pair grew louder, and as they questioned him, Peter’s heart rate went even higher, as if he were nervous. 

“How is he awake? I thought you sedated him.” Tony said suspiciously, eyeing the IV Bruce had hooked Peter up to.

“I did, I did. He should be out by now, but I think his body is used to the anesthetic. He’s burning through it faster than he was before. I don’t think he’s aware yet, but-“ Bruce snapped his fingers in front of Peter and watched the faster blip appear on the monitor. “He can hear us.”

“Great, that’s just great. Let’s go somewhere else the Spider-Kid won’t be able to hear us. I don’t need him figuring stuff out before I’m ready to tell him.” Tony says frustratedly, joints popping as he lifts himself from his chair. Bruce follows Tony through the mess of halls into his lab as Tony drops himself on his couch with a huff.

“Alright Tony, what’s up? I’ve never seen you this panicked around the kid.” Bruce says worriedly as he eyes his stressed friend. Tony brings his hands up to shield his eyes and he sighs loudly.

“It should be illegal for me to be a father, Bruce. I’m not fit to be one, not after my father royally screwed  _ me _ up.” Tony says gruffly, palms falling from his face as he stares at his friend, silently hoping he can help him.

“Tony, I said it before and I’ll say it again. You are not Howard.” Bruce says, wishing he could shake some sense into him. Tony gives him a look that clearly states he doesn’t believe him. Bruce sighs exasperatedly. “Are you serious, Tony? I’ve seen how you are with Peter.”

“Ignoring him? Dismissing him? Treating him like another side project? Please tell me, I’d love to hear it again after Steve chewed me out for the airport terminal.” Tony said sarcastically, internally yelling at himself for allowing Peter to get hurt during the fight. For even bringing him there in the first place. 

“I see how he lights up around you and how you’re always in a better mood when he’s around. I’ve seen the pictures you get Friday to save of Peter when the two of you are joking around. You let him talk your ear off twenty-four-seven. You don’t let anyone else do that, Tony. You encourage him to be a hero, you don’t drink around him. Ever. Do you really see Howard in yourself when the kid is near you? Because I don’t.” Bruce says passionately, easing down Tony’s defenses with every word. Sadly, he met Bruce’s gaze.

“I don’t know what to do, Bruce. He’s my son, but I want him to stay safe. If he knows, if other people know, he’ll be in danger constantly. There will never be a safe place for him again.” Tony says, only thinking of the worst case scenarios. He saw Peter die over and over again in his mind, from the alien attack to supermarket fights to other Obadiah's' trying to kill his kid. Bruce examined the spotless white floor as he listened to Tony speak worriedly.

“I don’t know what to do either, but Tony, either way he’s going to get into trouble. He’s Spider-Man, that’s not something to ignore when taking consideration.” Bruce said, reaching over to Tony’s shaking hand as he grasped it comfortingly. “Look, he’s always going to be in danger. The way I see it, either he can have his dad through it all or he can live the rest of his life believing his dad died when he was six.” Bruce said with a certain finality in his voice before he eased it again. “We’ll figure this out, Tony.” Tony felt beyond terrified for his kid as Bruce put his life in perspective.

“I just wish it could be figured out before Peter even knows about it. I only want what’s best for him, Bruce. I’m worried that I won’t be part of that.” Tony says quietly, eyes landing on his Iron Man suit across the lab. The suit that practically stood for danger in his eyes.

“Tony, don’t think like that. Peter adores you. I’m pretty sure the kid carries around adoption papers in his backpack when he comes over.” Bruce smiled proudly as Tony let out a laugh. “It’ll be alright, Tony. Whatever happens will happen, and we’ll be there to help Peter through it.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” Tony says, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, considering the anesthetic was already wearing off when we left, I say we go check on Peter,” Bruce says. Tony’s eyes widen as he jumps off the couch with a string of curses leaving his mouth. The two of them practically run to Peter’s room, worried he may have wandered out if he was awake. Tony lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Peter laying in his bed, heart monitor racing and fingers messing with the fabric of his blanket. Peter looks up with tears in his eyes as he watches his mentor cross his room to the foot of his bed, an unreadable expression on his face. Peter’s panicked mind read it as angry as his tears clouded his vision and morphed Tony’s face. Before Tony could ask him what was wrong, Peter spoke rapidly, trying to explain himself.

“I’m sorry. All I heard was yelling and snapping and then you were muffled but you were still yelling at each other and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad and then you went quiet and I couldn’t hear you anymore and-” Peter ran out of breath as he desperately tried to calm his breathing like Tony taught him to. Tony reached out to grab the hand that was nearly ripping Peter’s favourite blanket. Tony felt pain hit him as his kid wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Peter, I’m not...I’m really not mad, kid.” Tony said as Peter looked up suddenly, shock evident in his innocent eyes.

“What?” Peter said incredulously, like he couldn’t believe he wasn’t in trouble for eavesdropping.

“I’m not mad. I just - I don’t know what to do here.” Tony took a deep breath. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?” Peter looked up at Tony with incredibly trusting, puppy-like eyes that made the older man crumble on the inside.

“I...it can wait until tomorrow, kiddo. You probably won’t remember this anyways.” Tony says, about to turn away from Peter. The kid holds tight to his hand though, his eyes pleading.

“Please, Tony. Just tell me.” The name Tony was what broke him down. Normally the kid was calling him Mr. Stark, maybe a handful of times had he called him Tony.

“Alright, Pete. Okay.” Tony feels like he’s going to drop into a panic attack any moment. “I, uh...your dad didn’t die in a plane crash. Well, I suppose he did, but he wasn’t your biological father.” Tony fiddles with his left wrist as he speaks. “I know who he is, kid.” Tony nervously tried to force the words out. He looked up at Peter, whose eyes were concerned but hopeful, almost like he knew what Tony was about to say. Looking at his son gave him the strength to get it out. “I’m right here.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds out how and when Tony knew about him being his son.

“I, uh...your dad didn’t die in a plane crash. Well, I suppose he did, but he wasn’t your biological father.” Tony fiddles with his left wrist as he speaks. “I know who he is, kid.” Tony nervously tried to force the words out. He looked up at Peter, whose eyes were concerned but hopeful, almost like he knew what Tony was about to say. Looking at his son gave him the strength to get it out. “I’m right here.” Peter’s face immediately went slack as his brain tried to catch up to this information.

  
“Mr. Stark, you’re my...I’m your...what? How? I don’t-“ Peter didn’t understand. He was pretty surely convinced when he saw on paper that Tony was a 99.6% match to him, but to hear it from the man himself? This was a totally different world. One he had no idea how to work in.

  
“I know it’s a lot, Pete. I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner.” Tony says with a downcast expression, no doubt beating himself up. Peter scrambles his puzzled mind to come up with a single sentence that made sense.

  
“No, no, it’s okay Mr. Stark. Really, I-uhh...I don’t think I would know what to do either.” Peter said, his face drawn together in shock and concern for Tony. “Actually, I kinda don’t know what to do, anyways. When did you…? Why didn’t you tell me before?” Peter asks, hoping his mentor - father now, he thinks - knows what he’s asking. _Was Tony ashamed to have Peter as a son? Did he not want him?_

  
“I didn’t want to tell you earlier because I just knew...I knew that if anyone had known, you would be in more danger than you could handle and I couldn’t stand if something happened to you, just because you’re my kid.” Tony looked up to Peter, examining every frozen detail as his kid looked caught in the headlights. Every split second longer made Tony question himself. _Did he not want a father like Tony? He knew he wasn’t dad material but...he still loved Peter with every inch of his being._

  
“I’m already going to be in danger. I’m Spider-Man, that’s not exactly a safe alter ego.” Peter said sarcastically, finally somewhat breaking out of his stupor. Tony could have cried with relief, but he was playing it cool. _He’s cool as a cucumber. God, what am I turning into?_

  
“That’s almost exactly what Bruce said, too.” Tony replied, just barely stopping himself from ruffling Peter’s hair like he normally would. He didn’t know if Peter would flinch or hesitate, and he didn’t want to know.

  
“When did you, um…” Peter started, hesitant to know. Did Tony know all Peter’s life and just not want him until now? Did he even want him at all? Did he-

  
“When did I know?” Tony clarifies, despite knowing exactly what Peter was asking. Peter nods. “Well, it was when you first got hurt bad enough to be put in the med bay. You remember that?” Tony asked, finally reaching out and brushing Peter’s hair away from his forehead, noting how exhausted he looked. Tony remembered he was still fighting the anesthetic as Peter’s eyes fluttered gently under his comforting touch. Luckily, his kid had super healing. With the IV in him still pumping anti-this and anti-that’s into him, Peter would be okay to leave by the time it would take to tell him this story.

  
“Hey, you’re not falling asleep, are you? I’m too interesting and cool to be fallen asleep on, Spider-Boy.” Tony teased light heartedly, Peter’s eyes popping open even wider in mock-offence.

  
“Me? Injured and still drugged? Never.” Peter said, rolling his eyes. Tony was impressed, it seemed if this kid got anything decent from him, it was his sarcasm.

  
“Alright, alright. I’ll give you that one, that was pretty good for a sixteen-year-old boy.” Tony said dismissively, causing Peter to inhale, getting ready to come back at him. “Anyways, when I knew…” Tony started, trying to jog himself back into his memories. Peter settled down as if he were being told a bedtime story.

  
“So, it was when you were put in the med bay for the first time. I was scared out of my mind, thinking I’d just gotten you killed and your hot aunt was going to have my ass on a silver plate and then...well, then I saw you were slowly getting better.” Tony eyed his kid who was staring at him with a funny sort of awe. “I was in the middle of checking in on you when I noticed on your machine, you had the same blood type as me. You know, I’m the only one on the team with this blood type,” Tony says thoughtfully, “besides you, of course. So, I went into your file to research more about you, your spider-blood, all that good stuff.” Tony says while waving his hand. Peter listens with rapt attention.

  
“That’s when I saw just how close we were. I got Friday to run a scan on our blood types, as a sort of advanced but simplified paternity test.” Tony checked to see if Peter was still following along. “That’s when I knew. I remember being just as shocked as you are right now, if not more. I dropped one of my favourite mugs because of you,” Tony says with a sly smirk as he watches Peter’s mind connect the dots.

  
“The poisoned mug? That one was awesome! I was wondering where that went.” Peter said, laughing. He’d used it a few times at the tower, the one that said ‘You’ve been poisoned’ at the bottom of it. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t make jokes with Ned about him wishing it was true. He never meant it of course, but the joke was just too good to give up. Peter yawned as he waited for Tony to continue his story.

  
“Yeah, that one. I dropped it and it shattered, I couldn’t even glue it back together. I didn’t particularly care though. I couldn’t see anything except that screen and you.” Tony says quietly, and Peter feels his chest get warm at his hero’s words. “You look so much like me, Pete. You have my curly hair, my eyes, my nose, my cheekbones...You have no idea how hard it was to keep this from you. I wanted to tell you so bad, but I didn’t want you to be in danger.”

  
“I’m always in-“ Peter starts again, but Tony raises a hand.

  
“I know, you’re always in danger because of Spider-Man. I know. I just...kid, this is different.” Tony looked Peter in the eyes, desperate to have him understand. “I can’t protect you if the world knows you’re my son. It’s dangerous. You can’t trust people. I was worried that once you knew that-“ Tony lowers his voice and his gaze, truly showing his vulnerability to Peter.

“I was worried that if you knew, you wouldn’t want to be part of my life anymore. And if you don’t, I am with you. I wouldn’t want to be part of this life either, and-“ Tony rambles, taking after his kid’s habits. Peter looks at his mentor as he starts to notice all the things Ned pointed out to him once at a sleepover.  
Ned was right. Though Tony had facial hair and Peter didn’t, they were remarkably similar in their features and their demeanor. Peter felt with clarity as he suddenly understood the heartbreak Tony must have had to go through every day, seeing his kid and not being able to tell him. Then he realized something.

  
“Mr. Stark, even if you weren’t truly my dad...you’d still be my dad.” Peter said shyly, his cheeks surely turning red with his ears. Tony carded his fingers through his hair as he smiled softly.

  
“You’d still be my son,” Tony says, full of emotion. He laughs as Peter yawns once again, this time he hears a pop come from him.

  
“Okay kiddo, time to sleep. You should be okay enough to sleep in your own bed, Bruce said you’d be healed by now.” Tony says as he looks Peter over. “How are you feeling?” Tony is glad to be on the end of the most serious conversation of his life.

  
“Tired, but a lot better.” Peter says, leaning into Tony’s hand, still playing with his hair. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, even though I’m pretty sure the knock-out drug’s out of my system.” Peter says as he smiles proudly, making his dad laugh. His hand shakes in his hair, an unfamiliar but welcome feeling.

  
“Yeah,” Tony says, calming down as he wipes the tears of laughter from under his eyes, “I think it’s time for bed for you. Come on, kid, I’ll walk you up so the knock-out drugs don’t make you fall.” Tony says cheekily, barely moving out of the way as Peter lightly punches his arm. At the weak hit, Tony only laughs harder. Peter carefully maneuvers out of the hospital bed, only for his foot to catch on his blanket as he tumbled towards Tony. The man caught him just before he could face plant into him, righting him as Peter kicked his foot out of the covers.

  
“Thanks,” He mumbled, face turning bright red. It’s not like he hasn’t tripped before, but it’s always embarrassing when you’re a clumsy Spider-Man. It proved helpful as Peter fell up the stairs twice on his way to his room. Tony would neither confirm nor deny the fact that he had filmed it (Peter was pretty sure he did, though). As Tony helped him get into bed, he jokingly tucked him in like a little kid.

  
“There you go, Pete. I’ll be either in my room or the workshop, whichever calls to me first. If you need me, just tell Friday and I’ll come get you.” Tony says as he walks to the doorframe, slapping the side of it as he hits it. Peter stifles a grin at his also clumsy mentor. “Hey, don’t you laugh, or I’ll send your friend that video of you falling up the stairs.” Tony said, pointing his dinner accusingly at Peter, who only smirked.

  
“Ned’s seen me do worse, Tony. You have nothing on the blackmail he probably has.” Peter says confidently. He swears he could physically see the mastermind plot running around in Tony’s mind. “Oh, don’t you-“

  
“Okay, goodnight kid! You know where to find me.” Tony says as he quickly shuts Peter’s door and makes his way to his room. He’d have to contact Ned at some point, maybe May for some baby photos…(actually, Tony wouldn’t mind some for his personal album). Tony was suddenly filled with dread. Oh crap, May. She was probably worried sick about Peter. He dug his phone out of his pocket and psyched himself up for the call. He had barely gotten to typing out the numbers when he got an incoming call from May herself.

  
“Tony? Where is Peter? He was supposed to be home almost an hour ago!” May yells into the phone. Guilt floods Tony like a broken faucet. If Peter was expected to be with him and he hadn’t checked in…

  
“I’m so sorry, May. We got caught up in the lab, the kid left his phone upstairs. He’s asleep now but I can wake him up if you need him home.” Tony said, trying to lay it on thick. He could hear the annoyed but relieved sigh on the other end.

  
“No, don’t wake him up. It’s fine.” May did not sound like it was fine. “Just call me next time? Maybe send a text? I need to know Peter’s okay, Tony.” May says as Tony flinches over the phone. He’s never liked confrontation with people he cares about.

  
“I will, May. I’m sorry.” Tony says, trying to end this as fast as he can so he can go to sleep and try to forget about the stress of the last few days.

  
“It’s fine, Tony. Have a good night. And tell Peter to have a good night too, or good morning. Whenever you talk to him first,” May says, her voice softening when she talks about Peter.

  
“Oh, May. I have something I need to discuss with you and Peter. Maybe we could have dinner together sometime and talk it over?” Tony says, biting his lip in nervousness.

  
“Is this about the internship or Spider-Man?” May asks, and Tony can see her, clear as day, rubbing at her temples. Tony does the same.

  
“...Both?” He says after a pause.

  
“Okay. I can do tomorrow at my place, make sure Peter gets his homework done before you come back. I need his help with the meatloaf.” May says. At the mention of meatloaf, Tony knows him and Peter are making a pit stop at McDonald’s beforehand.

  
“He’s already done. I guess we’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, May.” Tony says finally, hoping to just sleep this headache off.

  
“Goodnight, Tony.” May says as she ends the call. Tony shoved the phone back into his pocket and practically drags his tired feet to bed. He hasn’t slept since Peter first got hurt, two days ago. God, he never wants to see Peter back in that bed ever again.

  
Peter hears Tony’s heavy footsteps stop just outside his door, hears as he sighs and continues walking. After being cleared, Peter turns on his lamp as he crawls up to his pillow, pulling his feet under him. The red and gold shades of his Iron Man duvet - courtesy of Tony - seem a little more vibrant, the white windowsill practically glowing in the darkness. Everything is the same, but shifted just a bit brighter as the realization truly hits him. _I’m Tony Stark’s son. I’m Peter Benjamin Stark._ Peter repeats this phrase in his mind until the jumble of letters and words lose meaning.

  
He can’t sleep now. An adrenaline rush has come with the realization that he is related to Tony Stark, his lifelong hero. Peter nearly falls over in his bed as he grows dizzy and faint, the walls closing in on him. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears as he stares into the doorway where Tony was not too long ago. Peter looks at his clock. 2:30AM. Maybe it was a long time ago. They went to bed at midnight. Oh well, he never knows how much time goes by when he dissociates.

  
In that moment, Peter makes the split second decision to get up. He tugs his blanket around him and grabs his pillow under his arm as he slowly makes his way to Tony’s room. He quietly opens the door, hoping to not wake up his...dad. He crawls along the floor until he makes it to the rug beside Tony’s side of the bed and forms his own version of a bed. The moment his head hits the pillow, Peter’s out like a light.

  
When Tony wakes up in the middle of the night from another nightmare, he barely misses stepping on Peter. Tony nearly jumps out of his skin. Peter lying on the ground was the last thing he expected from this night. However, seeing his kid lying there warms his chest with the distinct feeling of seeing a puppy. You can’t ignore it; you can’t stop yourself from instantly falling deeper in love. As Tony carefully picks up his kid and tucks him into his bed, he wishes, not for the first time, that he had been there for Peter from the beginning.

  
After a minute, Tony heads down to the lab to do the only thing he can to keep Peter safe. He works on his suit until he sees Peter yet again, casually walking across the ceiling, almost giving him a heart attack this time.

  
“Pete, you’ve gotta stop doing this. My heart can’t take it.” Tony says dramatically, clutching his hand to his chest. When Peter doesn’t respond, Tony moves closer to him. As he rounds the boy, he realizes his eyes are still closed as he softly snores. He shakes his head as he snorts. Sleepwalking, he could deal with. Sleepwalking on the ceiling? This kid would kill him someday, just from sneaking up on him.

  
Peter woke with a start as Tony snapped his fingers in front of him. He would have fallen if he wasn’t physically stuck there.  
“Oh, hi Mr. Stark,” Peter said tiredly as he waved at him.

  
“Kid, as much as I love your company down here, you have to go back to bed.” Tony said as he helped Peter down. He nodded with closed eyes as Tony gently led him back up the stairs to his room. As he tucked Peter back in, he was no longer joking. He ruffled Peter’s hair as he spoke.

  
“Mr. Stark, I can’t sleep.” Peter said quietly. His heart was restless despite being locked in exhaustion. Tony looked at him funnily.

  
“You were just sleeping on the ceiling, how can you not be tired?” Tony said as Peter knocked his head back on his pillow, unsuccessfully trying to become comfortable. He rolled his eyes as his frustration grew. He knows he was just sleeping, but now due to the blood rush in his head, he can’t go back to his dream. Tony notices his discomfort.

  
“Kid, did I ever tell you the story of how one of my suits went missing?” Tony has never told a kid a story before, but he guesses now would be a good time to start. Peter looks up at him with wide eyes full of worry.

  
“What? No!” Peter exclaimed, sitting up in his bed in excitement.

  
“Yeah! It was incredible, it was my favourite suit. Rhodey couldn’t get into it, of course, and I would love to tease him in that thing. I’d get Jarvis to fly him around, oh it was great.” Tony said reverently, gently pushing Peter back down into his bed. Peter watched as Tony talked about Rhodey, his eyes holding a particular happy shine in them.

  
“Then one day, it got really dark outside. And by dark, I mean _dark_. You couldn’t see a foot in front of you. I almost twisted my ankle trying to get down to my lab. Well, when they formed a little patch, I could just barely see these little birds. Thousands of them, all flying around the tower, just covering it.” Peter closed his eyes as he imagined the clouds of birds covering the tower, his windows, the lab. He didn’t even notice how heavy his eyes were getting.

  
“When I got down to my lab, they started flooding the place. I tried to force my way in, when suddenly my suit was flying! Hundreds of these little birds were stuck inside and out, trying to get off of it. I guess the material was adhesive to their talons because when these birds decided to fly back home, they took the suit with them.” Tony watched as Peter smirked.

  
“It was the funniest thing, now that I think about it, seeing a red and gold suit being flown by a bunch of little birds. I tried to follow them, but them being birds, they had a much bigger advantage. They knew where they were going and I couldn’t see through them, so I gave up.” Tony said with a shrug. Peter’s eyes may have been closed, but he could practically feel the hilarity rolling off of Tony.

  
“I got a report a month or so after from a museum in Alabama, saying they’d found my suit. It was empty but full of crap. Literally. Hey, don’t laugh, kid. I’m serious, this was my favourite suit and it was just chock full of bird crap. So, I left it to them. Said, ‘If you want it, it’s yours to clean out.’ Well, turns out those birds weren’t quite finished yet. A few of them had made nests in it, and when eagles found it-“ Tony paused to let Peter finish laughing, proud he’d made it this far in his made up story.

  
“Oh, eagles are mean. They snatched it right out of the historian’s hands. I heard it’s over in Georgia now. I’m not concerned. Nobody can open it, and I’m pretty sure the suit’s corroding now, anyways.” Tony finished, unable to resist carding his fingers through his son’s hair one last time before he got up.

  
“Alright, kid, I’ve got to go to sleep now, too. You know where to find me.” Tony says quietly, not wanting to wake Peter up in case he was already asleep. His breathing had evened out over the story and his eyes were closed. Tony was halfway out the door when he heard Peter mumble quietly.

  
“‘Night, dad.” It took only two words for Peter to absolutely melt the walls around Tony’s heart.

  
“Goodnight, kid.” Tony replied softly, smiling to himself as he made his way to his own bedroom. He didn’t expect to fall asleep until late, used to staying up in his lab, but that night at 4:17AM, Tony, a well-known insomniac, finally fell into a peaceful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Please drop a kudo and leave a comment? (I live for validation, please) I hope we didn’t destroy you all too much this time.


End file.
